Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Bhutan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Martian to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Severed Heads,
Lalann,
Eddi Front,
Arab on Radar,
Siglo XX,
Funkadelic,
the Sonics,
the Soft Cell,
Robert Wyatt,
Iggy Pop,
Los Fastidios,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Real Kids,
Althea and Donna,
The Tremeloes,
China Crisis,
John Coltrane,
Ponytail,
Rotary Connection,
Suicide,
The Move,
Brass Construction,
Soulsonic Force,
Boredoms,
Interpol,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Delta 5,
Technova,
Jeru the Damaja,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marc Almond,
Organ,
The Durutti Column,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Golliwogs,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare,
Soft Cell,
Patti Smith,
Icehouse,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hot Snakes,
The Techniques,
The Flesh Eaters,
Soul II Soul,
Talk Talk,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
R.M.O.,
Amon Düül,
Rhythm & Sound,
Zero Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kurtis Blow,
Bad Manners,
Unwound,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.